


Thy Pilgrim Soul

by Airelle



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airelle/pseuds/Airelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Yeats' wonderful poem, <em>When You Are Old</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thy Pilgrim Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Raven for her beta-reading!

_“How many loved your moments of glad grace,_

_And loved your beauty with love false or true,_

_But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,_

_And loved the sorrows of your changing face._

_Ray,_

_If you’re reading this, well, it will mean I’ve bought it. Cowley wanted us to write our letters “in case of”, and here’s mine._

_Those words above, how I wished I’d written them! (But they’re from this wonderful poet, Yeats – I can quote poetry, but I’m no good at writing it.)_

_And I wish I had found the courage to tell you about it – about my love for you. If I’d had the gall to talk to you, I’d have changed my letter, of course, except for the poem, which suits so well the feelings I have for you, and your very nature. But if you’re reading this, I haven’t. Haven’t found a way to let you know, too afraid to lose your friendship, your respect, your companionship. All things I value almost above everything else. The only thing I’d have valued more would have been your love._

_Those years with you were the best of my life. However it has ended, I do not regret a thing – except not having dared to be honest with you._

_Be well, my dearest friend_

_Bodie”_

Bodie finished reading the letter he’d written for Ray, the letter he had never given to Cowley but kept all this time in a drawer. Cowley had handed him back his official letter, which basically said: “Sorry mate, glad it wasn’t you”, and no longer had a point, together with the letter Ray had left for him. How ironic. How horribly, impossibly ironic. Ray, true to his nature, had saved a little girl’s life during a robbery turned wrong. He’d flung himself in front of the child, thus stopping the bullet which would have killed her. It had killed him instead. Mercifully, almost instantly.

 Bodie tore his letter in two and flung it into the bowl where he’d already burned Ray’s letter – without reading it. It also contained the ashes of the picture he’d kept in his wallet, of the two of them, happy, arms around each other, laughing to the camera.

 And now, this.

 Bodie put a match to the paper and watched it burn to a crisp.

 Then he took up his gun, which he’d laid beside the bowl. He released the safety and put the muzzle in his mouth.

 The noise of the blast was very loud, but there was no one alive in the room to hear it anymore.

 

The End

 

Notes

 Not being satisfied with the French translations of William Butler Yeat’s poem, _When You Are Old_ , I have attempted one of my own, at least for the stanza Bodie uses in his letter.

 

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

 

Tant de nous ont aimé ta grâce incomparable,

Et ta beauté, d’une passion par trop envieuse

Mais un seul a aimé ton âme voyageuse

Et aimé les tourments dans tes yeux insondables


End file.
